Warpaint
by Aelia Douglass
Summary: Garrus learns why Shepard paints her face, and then he shows her the turian way.
1. Chapter 1

Shepard painted herself every day.

He watched lazily from their bed as she rose, bathed, and spent long minutes each morning painting. Dark lines around her eyes. Rose on her cheeks. A shade on her lips just a bit darker than they already were.

Sometimes she added colors on her eyelids. He didn't know why she didn't do it every day. It might have symbolized something on her colony.

Once, Garrus had asked her why she painted her face.

"Warpaint." She'd replied, straight-faced.

He understood warpaint. Knew it was to terrify one's enemies. Turians used it. As he understood from some research on the extranet, Humans had a proud tradition of warpaint. He'd seen images from centuries before, images of men painted blue all over.

Garrus was rather partial to blue.

He imagined Shepard painted blue like that. One day, he might convince her to paint herself for him. Or to wear his colony markings. Maybe he could paint her.

He wasn't sure exactly how they would work on her face though. Human faces were different from Turian faces. But he liked her face. Liked the cream of her skin. The rosy hue it sometimes got. He liked the way her soft lips felt. The way she kissed him.

He loved the curve of her waist. The flare of her hips. And he truly adored her belly button. It was this perfect little divot in the middle of her stomach, and he loved the way she moved when he licked her there. She was so different from anything he knew. But she was _his_and he was learning all about her.

He wasn't sure about what humans found aesthetically pleasing. It was something that didn't translate well from species to species. He knew the humans on her ship found her attractive. Joker had explained that to him during one of their talks. That his Shepard was a beautiful human.

He loved her hair. It was long and red and he was the only one who got to touch it. He would run his fingers through it and watch its silken strands slide over his fingers. It wasn't the red of blood. More like the red of fire.

She wore it tied up in a knot on top of her head. The style was harsh. Maybe to go with her paint. He knew others found her intimidating. She was an imposing woman. She knew herself. Stuck to her principles even when it was difficult. She was amazing.

He spent some weeks contemplating her paint. And then she had a series of bad days. Some missions going rough. Garrus had done everything he could to help Shepard cope, to help her let go of the stress she carried.

That was when Garrus had his crazy idea.

He had a few hours of downtime to follow through with his plan. A few hours to do something he would never have imagined. He had used her paints to mark his face the way he had seen her mark her own. Dark lines near his eyes. Red around his mouth. Pink on his mandibles. The colors weren't as vibrant on his skin as they were on hers. Weren't as vivid as his own blue tattoos on himself. But they were there, and they were visible.

When she came back to their room that night, she was so distracted by stress that she didn't immediately notice. But he'd known the instant she had.

"Garrus?" She'd said, shock clear in her voice. She'd stared at him, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide.

"Shepard, I, ah," He hesitated. It had seemed so brilliant. It had been absolutely perfect in his mind, but now that he'd done it he was questioning himself. "I can explain."

"Please." Her voice was tight, and she wasn't quite looking at her. He wondered if he should have done more research on the human face-painting custom. If he'd somehow insulted or angered her.

"Sometimes, Turians wear each other's colony markings as a sign of..." He tried to find the words. "commitment?"

"Oh, Garrus." The smile she gave him was so genuine and heartfelt that he felt his own skip a beat in response. She took a few steps toward him. "That is the sweetest thing I think anyone has done." He saw her thinking, knew she was trying to be tactful about something. He had clearly missed something. "But Humans don't do that. It's mostly human _women _who wear makeup."

When she called it makeup, everything clicked into place.

She was trying to spare his feelings. Trying not to laugh at the absurdity of him decorating himself with her makeup. And if he were honest with himself, she was probably trying not to laugh at how _badly _he had done it. Even as she tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, she was touched by how thoughtful his misguided gesture had been. He saw it now, as he hadn't seen before.

When he started laughing, he felt her relax. Felt her hands stroke his mandibles as she chuckled at the absurdity of it all. She kissed him gently, and he just enjoyed the moment.

"I'm sorry, Shepard. I meant well." He finally managed, as their laughter subsided.

She sat beside him, and rested her head upon his shoulder.

"I know, Garrus. And though you didn't mean it to end up like this, I think I needed that laugh." Her hand smoothed the fabric on his arm. She stayed that way for several long minutes, and he just enjoyed the camaraderie.

Eventually, she broke the silence.

"I would be honored to wear the markings of your colony."

He hadn't been able to contain the happiness that had bubbled up at her response. He'd been so overwhelmed he'd begun expressing his excitement in very Turian ways, chirping and fluttering his mandibles.

"Let me just—" He was too excited to speak in full sentences. But she seemed to understand, because she was smiling at him. In the bathroom, he took some time to wash his face, removing the remnants of what he was sure would be an amazing story in a few years.

When he emerged, he was both cleaner and calmer than he had been. He was going to paint Shepard. He wouldn't, couldn't tattoo her. She was still human, and humans just didn't do that. But he could paint her.

"I just need a few days."

Shepard nodded.

He couldn't wait.


	2. Chapter 2

Twelve days, three spaceports, fourteen stores, and a ridiculous amount of anxiety later, Garrus finds what he was looking for.

The paint is the exact shade of blue of his tattoos. It won't hurt Shepard's soft human skin, and it won't stain it and leave evidence behind. The price had been obscene, but Garrus had gladly paid it for the opportunity to decorate Shepard.

It isn't until the last few minutes before their scheduled rendezvous—because when two individuals as visible in the public eye as they were wanted to spend time together it had to be scheduled—that the ramifications of what he's about to do hit him.

He's going to be marking Shepard with his colony. It's the happiest and most terrifying realization he's come to thus far.

Before he can really wrap his head around it, she's back. And she's smiling at him, and then she's kissing him. When she kisses him like that, his brain goes a bit mushy, and he doesn't want to think about anything besides how good she feels in his arms.

"Shepard," he murmurs. She draws back, and when he meets her eyes, he's nearly lost again. He loves her so damn much, and he hasn't even told her yet. But he feels it. He knows it. "Sit down."

She gives him one more quick peck, and then does as he says, perching on the foot of the bed, where he can comfortably reach both her and the supplies he's laid out.

"Close your eyes."

She obeys with a small smile, and he takes just a moment to study her. She's left her face bare in anticipation of tonight. He can see the freckles dusted across her nose and cheeks. Her eyelashes, a distinctly human feature, one she generally tints black, are light red slashes beneath her eyes. Her lips are still curved into that secret smile.

He can't resist just one more kiss, one more peck of those lips.

Her eyes nearly flutter open after that, but he stops her.

"Ah ah ah. No peeking."

She settles back, her hands resting gently on her lap, her spine straight as she sits up for him.

He opens the paint. It's that perfect shade of blue. On the table he's laid out paintbrushes, and at the time they seemed necessary. But now that she's actually sitting here he wants to touch her.

He's careful as he dips the tip of one taloned finger into the paint. And he's even more careful as he brings his finger to rest upon her nose. She shivers a little, and he's careful to keep his finger still, so it doesn't smudge. When she quiets once more, he begins to move, tracing his finger along the delicate skin beneath her left eye. He draws it back to her hairline, up by her temple.

Then he dips his finger in the paint once more, and replicates the line on the other side.

There is a flash of white teeth as she begins to chew on her lower lip. It is one of her more endearing habits, something that is distinctly _Shepard_. He watches for just a moment, and then he can't help leaning in and kissing her once more.

Her hands are tricky, and they sneak up and slide around his shoulders before he even realizes she's doing it. And he nearly gives in. But he's not finished yet, and he really needs to do this. So he pulls away.

She fakes a pout for just a moment, but it doesn't last. It turns into a giggle, and that's when he realizes that she's just as excited about this as he is.

He starts the next line near her ear, and draws it forward along her jaw. Once again he mirrors it on the other side. And it's perfect.

He's simultaneously grateful and regretful that his markings are not more elaborate. He'd love to see her face covered like a Turian, but he's glad he doesn't have to resist her much longer.

He gets on the bed and sits behind her, drawing her back a bit so she's between his thighs, her back resting against him. He puts the mirror in her hand and angles it so when she opens her eyes she can see their faces together, with their matching markings. He nuzzles her a little, nibbling at her ear the way he knows she likes.

"Alright, open your eyes," he whispers.

Her face is frozen for a moment, but her eyes move rapidly, taking everything in. And then their eyes meet in the mirror, and she grins at him. There are tears in her eyes, but both of them pretend they haven't noticed.

"It's perfect, Garrus." She leans back, rests their faces cheek to cheek. Her hands are fumbling around in one of her pockets, and it's only a moment before she pulls out a camera.

"Smile." She whispers.

It's not hard to look happy for her, as she takes a photo of them. He's so damn happy he can hardly contain it. Shepard is his best friend, and the love of his life. And she's here with him.

Garrus takes one more picture before they put the camera down. In this one, he's kissing her, and their cheeks are facing the camera, so their matching marks are visible.

The camera and the paint are placed carefully on the table.

Then he's drawing her back into the bed, and their thoughts are no longer on anything but this moment.


End file.
